Untitled
by Hannah Hunt
Summary: Joe wasn't the only one who lost someone that day. Mari Clemmons too had lost her mother and is now battling grief and depression. Not enough room for a full summary. And I stink at summaries. T for language, as we've all seen Super 8. P.S. Titles needed!
1. Numb

**Haha, because my friend told me to, I've been creeping on this site for awhile and have decided I want my first fan fiction to be of my current favorite movie, Super 8. I remember when there was about four fan fictions in the Super 8 category, I'm so happy there's so many now. :D**

**Anyways, it's basically same plot as the movie. Split into three different ends, and I'll explain that later. Please read and, uh review, right? Well, enjoy! Thanks!**

Part 1

_Numb_

I remembered looking up at the sign.

The horrible, ugly thing that told me something had gone terribly wrong. My dad put his arm around me, and squeezed my shoulder tighter. I didn't cry until much later. The numbers and letters just didn't go together inside me, like a puzzle box with extra pieces from another thrown in.

Days since last accident= 1

I stared at it as we left. My father's hands shook a little, and then he leaned down, pressing his forehead to mine. I felt his hot tears running down his face and falling onto my clenched fingers. We stood like that for awhile, and then my father picked me up like a princess and carried me to the car. I didn't try and struggle, even though I was way beyond the age to be carried. All I knew that locked deep inside of me was a girl screaming and crying over her dead mother.

They decided to hold the services together. Apparently my mother wasn't the only one who perished in the accident. There was a boy who was there too. He clutched a silver locket in his skinny fingers. His eyes were red and puffy, his cheeks flushed.

I imagined looking at myself, something that I had long since stopped doing. My long brown hair was probably a mess (though I had tried to brush it out), my face pale and tense, my dress too big (I had lost weight since buying it, we couldn't afford a new dress that fit me for a service), brown eyes sunk and dull, all my flaws highlighted in my state of grief.

But I didn't care. Not now.

They held the receptions at Joe's house. That was his name. Joe Lamb. The deputy's boy.

He and I didn't go inside. I guess that was reasonable. Neither of us felt like eating or signing sympathy cards or looking at pictures. He sat on the old swing set in front, fingers clenched around that silver necklace. I lay in the back yard. There was snow on the ground, and it was freezing and melting against my warm body, but I didn't care. I was beyond caring about anything now.

Tears came and froze on my face. I didn't care. My clothes were getting soaked. I didn't care. There was a commotion out front. I didn't care. That's how I dealt. I didn't care.

When the service ended, my father found me in the yard, still sprawled out in the numbing whiteness.

"Mari…" he said quietly. He lifted my head up and tried to wipe the frozen tracks off my face. But they were frozen, not budging. Looking up at him, I saw what the sadness took on him. Bags under his eyes, loss of muscle, a tight mouth. I sniffed, feeling the inside of my nose shudder as cold air entered my body.

"Why dad?" I asked quietly.

"I don't know, sweetheart. I don't know."

"Why?" I repeated, feeling my voice grow louder. With each word I uttered, a throbbing lump in my through grew larger.

"Sh, darling, it's alright." My father picked me up again, my head tucked against his chest, my legs swinging over his arms.

"Why was it her? What did she do? Why did she have to leave?" I stared to wail. I repeated the question over and over again. "Why, why, why?"

The only answer I got was "I don't know."

I wanted a different answer, so I started screaming.

"Hush, baby, it's okay."

"No! No, it's not. She's dead. She's gone. Never coming back." My voice dropped to a whimper but raised back into a shout. Why? Daddy, why?"

My father carried me back to the driveway and across the street. If the boy noticed I was screaming my head off in denial, he didn't say a word. I didn't care.


	2. Coping

_**A/N: Hey dudes, sorry about that. Kind of forgot I had this account…Anyways, thanks for the reviews before. Here's part 2. Itt's more of and obnoxious filler, but it gets better come the rest. At least I think it does. (:**_

_** Ah! I almost forgot! Ryan Lee has asked to read this story! That's pretty cool in my opinion! Haha I freaked out so much…xD**_

_**Well. Enough of my yapping. Enjoy. (:**_

Part 2

_Coping_

Four Months Later.

The sun warmed the old red brick of Lillian Middle School. Kids ran around, chattering noisily. Most kids would be excited about the day. It was the last day of school, the first day of summer.

I, on the other hand, was not excited. For me, school allowed me to hold onto my sanity. With it's strong enforced rules, exact schedules, and piles of homework, my mind was just rendered to exhaustion and unable to lose more of itself. School was a machine, and I was a worker. It wasn't going to change; it was hard set in stone. Perfect for me. I could work with mechanical movements without having to think.

_But now,_I thought, as the clock ticked towards the dreading hour of three. _What am I going to do?_Probably go off the deep end. Right now, as I judged myself, I was in the medium end.

However, In the past four months, I had found something that kept me going. They were candles. Especially the strong scented ones. I chose the scents that reminded me of my mother. They were calming. My therapist thought that it was a bad idea, but I ignored him and kept on with it. After all, the smells didn't make me go nuts and fall into depression or an emotion crazy state. They smelled good, full of gentle memories.

Another thing that helped was the sound of trains. I loved the blaring horns, the squealing steel and metal, the roar of the air as they rushed by. Since I was slipping into semi-loco land, I had start wanting to hitch a ride on one. I'd sit on the top with some lit candles and bundled in warm jackets.

This was a common day dream of mine. I'd dream it at home, never at school; that was my sanity sanctuary, obviously. At home, I had nothing to exhaust me. So I'd light a candle and sit at my desk, staring out my window and then I'd drift away into the steady rock of my imaginary train.

For sure I was going to go down to the train station tonight. Today was the last day of school, the last time my mind could stay calmly tired. Tonight, hopefully the trains would calm my nerves.

My dad was no help. He was lost in his own issues with grief. He buried himself into his work, laboring late into the night and leaving early the next morning. I don't know how he didn't crash from exhaustion. When he was home, he was usually sleeping. But I doubted he ever did get rested, considering he usually screamed himself awake. I never asked him, but I knew he was dreaming about my mother.

The bell rang, making my fingers clench into my palms. I bit my lip and slowly gathered up my books. Last time I'd ever do that for three months. The teacher looked at me behind her glasses. Was that something like sympathy I saw in her eyes? I highly doubted it. Teachers were supposed to be emotionless. I wished I could train myself to be like that. Unfortunately, no such luck.

I collected the rest of my things and stepped outside, shoving my books into my backpack as I headed down the hall towards the front doors. A kid passed me. His face was familiar. Joe. Joe Lamb. The deputy's boy. He seemed to be holding out well enough. Lucky. I slung the bag over my shoulder and grabbed my bike, walking it to the end of the sidewalk where the crowd of kids had started to I jumped onto my bike and pedaled away, trying hard not to look back at my school.


	3. Picture Prep

_**A/N: Alrighty. Thanks for the reviews! I want to just say, THANK YOU to I Love the Pyro, she's wonderful and a great writer and an awesome person! Throwing that out there. You should read her stuff!**_

_**I'd also love it if you spread this around, that'd be so awesome. Thanks once again, especially to I Love the Pyro. :D Sorry about these first bits, they're awkward and really slow.**_

Part 3

_Picture Prep_

Our rickety car was parked lazily in the driveway, so I knew that my father was already home when I pushed open our front door. That was strange. He was never home this early  
>I found him sitting in front of the couch, wedged between it and the coffee table. His head rested on the table. Papers were spread out around him and a pen balanced in his limp hand.<br>I left him to catch the precious minutes of rest before he'd scare himself awake. Not long after I started to make pasta for dinner he started shouting. When my father screamed, he never shouted coherent words. As always, his yelling startled me and I burst into the living room.  
>"Dad!" I ran to his side, shaking his shoulder to wake him up.<br>"Mari!" he jerked his head up and around, dropping the pen to the ground.  
>"Bad dream," I informed him in a murmur. He nodded and tiredly lifted himself onto the couch. Once he was settled, I followed him up and leaned against him. Through his thin work shirt I could feel and hear his heart pounding. He put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me closer. When we were first in this position, it was right after leaving the mill. We sat like that, stiff and unsure of what to do. Now we're usually like this to recover from nightmares of bad school days.<br>"Your water is boiling," my dad pointed out to me. We listened as it steamed over and splashed onto the stove. I nodded and sighed inwardly to finish our dinner.  
>When I came back with two bowls of penne and red sauce with mushrooms, he was asleep again. I smiled weakly and set the bowl by hum. He woke up about thirty minutes later, no nightmare. Then he left for work at seven after eating. I had come home at four.<p>

At eleven, I set off on my bike towards the train station. I was waiting for the midnight train. The bike ride only took about ten minutes but I had grown accustomed to getting there early, setting up my candles and bundling myself up in my favorite jackets. In my bag were my essentials for the night: A bag of twizzlers, three scented candles, a lighter, and a few matches.  
>My bike tires made one of my favorite sounds as I pulled in behind the train station. The rubber and gravel made a pleasant clicking and crumbling symphony.<br>The train station was a cute little building, made of wood and it looked like it could fall apart any second. It had a wrap around porch and I sat on the side looking at the tracks so when the train came it was like it was coming right at me. Feeling slightly chilled, I zipped up my hoodie and pulled my legs up to my chest, leaning against the wall of the building. I opened my backpack and pulled out a licorice rope and chewed slowly on the red candy. After lighting the candles, I flicked the lighter on and off, watching the little flame flicker in and out of life.  
>Around 11:45, I heard the sound of a car pulling in. I started to slowly pack up my things and was prepared to move to a different spot incase it was someone who worked at the station. Wouldn't want them to find some random kid sitting at the station with candles and licorice. It might look a little weird. My suspicions of someone working at the station were obliterated as I heard young voices. Some I even recognized. No, scratch that. I recognized all of them. There was Charles, Cary, Martin, and Preston. As their rubber shoes crunched against the gravel and clomped up the stairs, I heard two more voices join them. Joe. Joe Lamb. And Alice Dainard. What on earth were they doing here? I felt my eyebrows rise. This was <em>my <em>spot. Nobody had ever interrupted or bothered me before. Not that they were bothering me. Yet. They gathered around the front of the station talking and prepping for something.  
>"New lines?" Martin complained.<br>"Just run them," Charles ordeed.  
>"Can you close your eyes?" Joe asked. I jumped, nearly knocking over my last candle with my startled foot. Joe and Alice were standing on my side of the porch. Alice's eyes were closed and Joe seemed to be pretty focused on putting on her makeup, so they didn't notice me.<br>Did I want them to notice me? That was an unknown. Finally they walked back to rejoin the group, erasing the question from my mind. I packed up the rest of my things swiftly while they ran through whatever they doing. Feeling warm, I wadded up my hoodie and stuffed it back into my bag. As I shoved the last match stick into my pocket, I remembered what they were doing. They were making a movie. I remembered Joe, Cary, and Charles talking about it while I walked out of school today.  
>Charles swore. "Will you stop blowing up sh** for two seconds and take the camera?"<br>I stifled a laugh. The blonde, Cary, had a strange thing for fireworks and explosions like I did for candles and trains. I stopped a moment. When was the last time I had to hide a giggle? A long time ago.  
>"Hurry! Oh god, I hope we don't miss it," Charles was yelling again. I turned and saw the train coming. The bright front light streamed through the darkness, bathing the station in a pearly white. The group ran around at Charles's order. They slipped on costumes, shoved film into the camera, set up the microphone, and shoved papers with lines on them away into hidden pockets. I heard the chugging "choo choo" as the powerful engine drove along the tracks.<br>5. 4. 3. 2. 1. The train roared by, sending everyone's hair flying.  
>Charles shouted action and Alice and Martin started speaking their prescribed lines. I tried to split my hearing so I could listen to them and the train, but eventually tuned them out until Joe yelled. Charles turned to him, furious that he had ruined the scene. My attention jerked to Joe, then past him when I saw why he had stopped the scene. A truck was driving on the tracks. Driving towards the train. I felt my breath catch in horror.<p> 


	4. Witness

_**A/N: Thank you I Love the Pyro and Meggie Cronwell. Your reviews make me so happy! Here's the next part, I won't keep you waiting. Enjoy!**_

Part 4

_Witness_

The moment of collision was catastrophic.

Heart stopping. I really did think I was going to die. The front of the train hit the car and it blew up into flames, derailing the rest of the train. It flew backwards and exploded, throwing huge chunks of train everywhere. I remembered running like an idiot, following the crew, knowing that they wouldn't care that I was there. We were all running for our lives. Charles was screaming swear words while Cary was shouting in a scared/excited tone about the explosions. Suddenly my feet steered me away from the group, leaving me on my own while a train was blowing up around me. I whipped around to face the train station, which was about ten yards away from me and watched a hunk of train rammed straight through it, setting it ablaze and completely destroying it. Bits of wood with flames flickering on them flew at me. I hit the ground, covering my head with my arms.

When that section of terror was over, a new wave began. A large gas tank landed a ways from me and exploded a few seconds after it landed. I thought I saw a shape running away from it, but I couldn't tell. The smoke could easily have tricked me. I backed up to start running again, wondering in the back of my head if my bike was still alive and in one piece. This was stupid of course, considering _I_ was what I needed to worry about at the moment. But I found myself racing back towards the rubble that was once the building. As I was running, I heard another explosion, lost my footing, and found myself flying through the air. I crashed back to the ground, the air knocked out of me, everything went black in a loud dark explosion.

The fainting spell did not last long. I woke up to a ripping pain in my left arm. Dizzily, I examined what was going on. My arm was caught under a chunk of jagged metal. I felt my breath quicken as I turned over onto my front and stood on my knees. Taking a deep breath, I yanked my arm out from beneath it, splattering the metal with blood. There was more blood on the metal, and I wondered vaguely if that was all mine. I hoped not. Holding my breath now, I looked at my arm. It was slick with crimson and the skin was shredded and scraped. I chewed my bottom lip and tried not to look at it again.

Cradling my now stinging arm, I stumbled to my feet (I had been kneeling) and staggered away to find my bike. As far as I could tell, the explosions were over. I gritted my teeth as I searched around in the rubble for my bike. The gang was regrouping.

"Oh my god, oh my god," Charles said, followed by some shaking swear words.

"Did you see those explosions?" Cary put in almost creepily cheerful.

"Martin, you alright?" Joe asked

I heard the sickening sound of vomit hitting the ground and thought I might puke myself.

"What on earth are these? They're like weird little Rubics cubes.."

"Nobody cares Joe!"

"Oh god," Joe said, looking at something. It was a chunk of metal covered in blood. They all stood around it. Charles swore.

"All that blood," a voice said shakily. "Did someone get hurt?"

Five pairs of eyes turned to look at Alice. Joe suddenly turned back and stared pawing underneath the metal.

"Joe! You idiot!"

"Don't stick you hand under there!"

"Guys! It's alright! It's my fake blood! See, it's fake!" He said brightly, holding it up. _Not all of it, bub._

His silver necklace was in the other hand. Alice eyed it and he hastily stuffed it into his pocket.

"Hey guys, you can see everything from up here!" someone called. I turned to see someone standing on top of an overturned train car. The rest of the group ran up to meet them. I followed close behind, not really wanting to be apart of their group, but wanting to see what "everything" was when they were gone. From where I was, I could hear everything they were saying.

"It wasn't an accident," Joe stated.

"What?" I could hear the confusion in everyone's voices and could even imagine their faces.

"There was a truck, it was driving on the tracks."

"It was driving on the tracks?"

"Yeah…there," Joe pointed, but I couldn't see because it must've been further away and I was kind of low to the ground and couldn't see over the rubble. The group walked off to investigate and I scampered up to see. I saw their moving shapes and looked around at the wreckage. It was amazing. Fire licked on the sides of boards and random pieces of scrap everywhere. Huge chunks of metal and wood lay scattered, while some lay in piles. The tracks were torn and twisted. I could feel my eyes widen. It was horrible, frightening, shocking, but amazing in a weird way. I shook my head, trying to clear the thoughts. If I kept that up I'd start acting like Cary.

Suddenly a scream brought me back to my senses. Another scream followed after about 40 seconds. I saw the group running back and decided I better make a run for it as well.

"He pointed a gun at me!" Martin was wailing.

"Come on guys!" Alice was screaming. She held the door open to a yellow car.

"Oh my god, oh my god," Charles was saying again.

"Hurry up!" Alice shouted. She started swearing. "Get your asses in here! Go go go!"

I heard more yelling that weren't kids voices, and saw bright, strong flashlights cut through the dark. Digging through the rubble, I grabbed my bike, found my backpack, and started pedaling as fast as I could. Alice started the car (I assumed she was driving) and rushed passed me. I followed as quickly as I could. People were shouting in rough voices.

As I pedaled home, I started to become very aware that blood was running down my arm and filling my hand. When I got home, I had to pry my hand away from the bar, as the blood had dried my hand to it. I didn't bother to clean it as I collapsed into my bed. My arm was throbbing, but I didn't want to think about that now. I closed my eyes and sleep shut down on me like a heavy weight. As I was pulled down, I had a feeling I wasn't going to be awake for a long while.


	5. Mysteries

_**A/N: Hey, so sorry about not updating. I meant to do after awhile, but when I don't get notification emails form fanfiction, I don't tend to go onto the site. :P So, here's Part 5, thank you so much for reading and reviewing, it really means a lot to me. (:**_

Part Five

_Mysteries_

"Hey, Mari?" My dad was shaking me.

I jerked awake and immediately regretted it. Dried blood cracked on my arm and face. Wincing, I remembered I didn't clean up when I fell into bed last night.

" What on earth happened?" he asked, eyes wide as he ran them up and down me. The sheets and blankets were crusty and dark with blood. I didn't even want to begin to think about my appearance.

I didn't answer and sidestepped the question. "What time is it?"

"About six at night. You weren't downstairs and there was no note saying you were gone, and it was kind of strange to find you in bed…in your state…What happened?" he asked again.

"You're home early," I noted, the question whizzing over my head a second time.

"Yes, they made me go home. Said I was working too much," he said with a light smile. "But come on Mari, what happened?" his tone turned serious again.

"My arm got stuck," I said evasively. He looked at me expectantly, so I had to continue. "I was at the train station. When the train blew up last night. I got caught beneath a piece of metal. It was just a scrape," I reassured after I finished.

"That is an awful lot of blood for a scrape," my father said worriedly.

I finally took a look at myself. The sheets were plastered to my arm with dried blood. I tried detaching it but found it too painful. On the left side of my head I found a scabby knot.

"Oh god." My eyes widened.

"You need anything? Like a doctor or something?" my dad asked, looking rather nauseated.

"I don't think they'd do anything about a scrape. Besides, it's not bleeding."

"If you say so…" he said, seeming unsure. "But, I've got to go to work again. Call if you need anything," he said reluctantly.

This was all new. My dad usually just left without a word. I nodded, slight dumbfounded. He kissed my gross forehead and smoothed back what hair would go back and then left.

I lay in bed for awhile afterwards, then slowly peeled off the sheet and ran my arm under warm water. Watching the blood clots loosen and fall away made me feel sick. After gently rubbing the blood and dirt from my face, I took a long bath, keeping my tender arm well out of the hot water. Then I went and flopped on the couch, dozing off now and then.

My father came home around 3 in the morning. Even at the ridiculous hour, he was glad to see me up and out of bed. Sort of. He remade my bed with new clean sheets and made me a bowl of soup. While I slurped up the noodles and broth, we sat on the couch and flipped the TV on. They were talking about the train crash.

"You were there," my father said, seeming horrified at the fact. An image popped up of the wrecked station.

"A freak accident," I said, deciding to leave the part out about the truck driving into the train.

"No kidding. Look at all of that." The camera panned to show the expansiveness of the destruction.

I nodded, having no more words to continue.

"Do you know anything else?"

I shook my head no, watching numbly as US Air Force people marched around the scene. "A freak accident," I repeated. My father nodded, though he still didn't seem convinced. After all, it was hard to convince something it was only an accident when they were getting barely any information and the US Air Force was crawling around their home like an insect infestation.


	6. Alone

_**A/N: Okay, so I shamefully haven't written this since like, November. I'm terribly sorry…But well, here's part 6, and remember, it's been quite a few months, so please try and disregard errors and such... Also, you should know I'm making a rewrite so be warned on that one! I follow the story of the movie, and I need to add more bulk, really, really badly so the time lines overlap correctly. So this is just for fun. Hope you enjoy! **_

Part 6

_Alone_

I must had fallen asleep during the news, because the next thing I knew, I was waking up in my bed with a note taped to my door.

_Went to work. There's soup in the cabinet,_

_Love, Dad_

My arm had started to get some scabs to cover the stinging pink flesh. It looked like a healing rug burn-and in simple words, very ugly. I wrapped it in an ACE bandage so I didn't have to look at it. Feeling bored, I turned on the TV again. It was still the news, and all they were talking about was the train accident. Joe's words echoed in my mind.

"This wasn't an accident."

After a few minutes of the reporter talking, it cut to a picture of the stupid. An anchor was talking about strange events. Stolen items, runaway dogs, and missing people. A distressed women was crying over her missing friend. I peevishly scanned the banner running across the bottom of the screen, looking for anyone I knew. Well, anyone I knew closely. The town of Lillian was small, so almost everyone knew each other in someway or another. One of the names stood out to me. The sherrif. That meant Joe's dad was in charge until the sheriff got back. My brain couldn't help thing "_If he got back."_

I turned off the TV and sank back into the couch. Slowly a small seed of an idea grew. Joe and the crew. They were there last night. Maybe they saw more than I did. And those cubes…maybe they knew something. They had to. Just a small bit of information.

The tires crunched against the gravel as I biked down to the diner. After I parked my bike, I stepped inside. I had seen the crew here before.

As I'd hoped, they were sitting in the booth by the window, which I had failed to notice on my way in. I ordered a soda and sat in one of the corner tables, waiting until everyone but Joe cleared out. Most of them did eventually, except for Cary, but he was hardly interested until someone lit something on fire. Usually.

"Hey Joe," I called, getting up from my seat. It was strange to hear my voice like that, so full of purpose. When I usually talked it was soft and if someone heard me I'd pretend I didn't say anything, not wanting to repeat myself. He looked at me with an odd expression, but allowed me to slide into the booth so I was sitting across from him. The table was stacked with empty plates that held greasy leftovers. A few cups of drained coffee sat in the corner.

Cary looked up. "Oh my god, she speaks!"

"Shut up, Cary," Joe nudged him. I pretended not to notice by pushing the coffee cups further into the corner of the table.

"Uhm, I want to talk to you, or you guys," I said, my voice starting to slip into its usual wavering tones. But I held onto it and said in a lower, steady voice, "About that night."

"What night?" Cary asked smartly. His face suddenly turned to a grimace. I figured Joe stomped his foot.

"Come on. You were there. I saw you," I crossed my arms.

"What were _you _doing at the train station?" Cary questioned.

I rolled my eyes. "I was asking _Joe, _not you."

"But you said just a second ago you wanted to talk to 'you guys' which is both of us."

"Cary, just shut up," I sighed, a teasing smile starting to play on my lips.

"We aren't allowed to talk about it," Joe said softly.

"Why not? Joe, people are going missing. Something is going on. You must have seen something."

"What makes you think that?" he asked.

"Well, you're being difficult about giving information, like all the officials in this town and also," I lowered my voice even more. "You were holding that silver necklace."

Joe looked at me straight in the face. "Alright. Well, first, it was an Air Force train. It has these little hooks…"

Cary waved him to go on and ignore the special things that made an Air Force train and Air Force train.

"I saw something trying to bust out of one of the cars."

I bit my lip. "Anything on those funny white cubes?"

Joe shook his head a reluctant no. "I just took one. Nothing's happened with it so far."

I nodded. "Thanks. Tell me if you hear anything else."

Joe nodded in reply. Cary looked up again as I slid from the booth. "Hey, what happened to your arm?"

"Let's just say that all the fake blood from Joe's fake blood kit wasn't all fake," I said, pulling a few Twizzlers from my backpack. I tossed one to Joe and then threw the other one at Cary after a moment.

"Oh my god!" Joe exclaimed, his eyes wide. The red candy dropped from his fingers.

I left them with that, turned away and walked out of the diner. As I was leaving I heard Cary say tell Joe in a grossed out voice that he had touched my blood. Feeling as though I had said far to much for me, I closed my mouth and biked back home, trying to warp my mind around what Joe had told me.

I went back to bed after I got home from the diner. My bodily clock was completely out of whack so I woke again around three in the morning. Not wanting to go back to sleep, I got up and wandered around the house. As I passed one of the large windows in the front of the house, I noticed out of the corner of my eye my dad's car wasn't back yet. Either he had come back or left already, or he was working a really late night.

Having nothing better to do, I roamed outside and sat in the driveway. After a few hours, the first sunrays began to penetrate the dark sky. I still waited. The air began to warm up and I went back inside to check the news. An evil idea had formed in my mind and I wanted to prove it wrong as soon as possible.

But once the screen lit up, and the list of names at the bottom trailed across. Among the missing people was my dad. The name burned clear in my head. Ben Clemmons.

I lay in the driveway, curled into a miserable tiny ball. The concrete felt hot and scratch against my skin. Despite this, I found myself shivering. Vaguely I was reminded of four months ago, when I was surrounded by cold snow. Why couldn't it be snowing now? I could use it to numb out everything. To make it so I couldn't feel anything. So cold I wouldn't even want to shiver. My body trembled against the hot driveway. I was alone now. My dad, gone, missing. How could life do this to me? It stole my mother and now my father. When would it snatch me from the living? What was point if I was only going to fall into a deep depression, one trains and candles couldn't even pull me from?

I tried to a curl myself into a tighter position as tears threatened to fall down my face. One escaped and landed on the ground.

Great. If it was fifty degrees cooler we'd have our first snowflake.

I couldn't stay frozen without crying for long. Eventually the sobs started to overcome me and I pressed my head into the concrete, trying to muffle the noises as I wept.


End file.
